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The t-shirted, long-legged young woman pulled her panties up, tossed me a confident wink, and threw back the deadbolt.From my seat in the rented room’s most secluded corner, I watched him cross the threshold. My hands clenched the polished oak chair arms in a vain attempt to suppress the soaring pulse rate. For the umpteenth time I wondered why his unique presence deepened the throb beneath whatever I happened to be wearing, in this case, a short, summer skirt and blouse. Nothing else.Instant approval flared in his eyes as they set upon his greeter, rendering me invisible as planned. Good.”I’m Cyndi,” She licked full lips and flashed him a winning smile. “Why don’t I take your jacket?” She closed the door for him, as he was clearly too dazed to remember how. “Get you a drink?””No, no thank you.” That accent, still causing such a coronary ruckus in so few words.”Make yourself comfortable, then. Sit?” She loosened his tie, perched her scantily clad form on the bed and casually tucked a bare leg under herself, enjoying the unease of her new admirer who sat hesitantly to her left.She tugged her shirt up and over her head to reveal a pair of cream-colored honeydews. “I’ve heard a dirty little secret about you, and these,” she crooned knowingly, glancing down at her perfect, unfettered tits. “Is it true?”His mouth was agape, but nothing was coming out of it. Except maybe drool.”You’re quite the shy bloke, aren’t you? I know your type, though. It’s all an act. You use it as bait.” Her hand alighted on his thigh. “And that’s only the second dirty little secret I know about you.” The warm, wayward palm advanced northward, fingers directed with purpose at the swelling below his belt. “What if I told you I knew them all? Would that make you nervous…” Her nail tips raked kitten scratches over his rising terrain. “…or would it turn you on?”Cyn. Sweetie. You could read a random page from the revenue code and still give him a hard-on.She tapped the bulge of endorsement in his drawers. “Can I see?” Tacitly he let her release his belt and part his zipper. She tugged out his boxers and peeked in. “Oooh, nice! Nothing to be bashful about here. Come on, then.”She reclined on the bed, clad in nothing but lime green bikini panties, and provocatively swung https://escortium.org her knees open. While her left thumb stirred a nipple to a strawberry point, her other hand launched a top down invasion into her knickers.He nearly tripped on himself shedding his clothes and knelt naked between her long sexy legs, his stiffening wank toy swiftly in hand.I spat out my gum ostentatiously into the crumpled paper on which his contact information was scrawled, then tossed both into the waste can. Through the metallic taste of irony I congratulated myself on the third party casting. Good luck getting your third back into this threesome, Vanilla Girl. ***Vanilla Girl, aka yours truly, had been with Shy Guy before in a one on one collision of equal appetites, or so I thought. A straight fuck, but a torrid one. Direct. Urgent.Once.After that “once”? Crickets. No, not exactly. A message: Had a great time, kitten. Thanks; it was really hot. Then crickets.Did a runaway libido deafen me to what I should have been better attuned? Does a dog whiz on trees? Turned out he already had a playmate whose absence had motivated him to seek attention elsewhere. Unfortunately, by the time I found out, I was already craving seconds. And hating myself for it.The numero uno tartlet might have been fluent in his preferred dirty dialect, but I had my own triple threat pinch hitter on deck. Cyndi was curvy. Cyndi was lustful. Cyndi spoke the language and was giving me the honors course.How I found her wasn’t important. Friend? Acquaintance? Personal ad? It was nobody’s business, not even his. She had what he wanted. That’s all.I sent him her picture and the rendezvous details. Within seconds, he messaged back in the affirmative.In the gym later that day, the kickboxing bag received a more savage pummeling than usual.Did he think you were too vanilla? Kick.Too good-girl? Punch.Perfect handful-plus tits not enough for him? Kick.Don’t fucking talk dirty enough for him? Punch. Kick.Screw it, then. Kick. Punch. Kick.Sir Short-Attention-Span was about to swallow a flavor he’d never forget. Kick. SLAM.The bag snapped from its tether and collapsed heavily onto the mat.***A full length wall mirror just behind Cyndi’s head reflected her reclining landscape of jutting boobs, a valley of midriff, knuckle bulged lime green knickers, then Shy Guy’s full frontal attitude rising like a lecherous Denali from between her thighs. Slack jawed, he contemplated the bodacious banquet laid out for his consumption.Nothing shy about the frontal handful he has, I had to admit as I unbuttoned my top. Much more than a handful. Tremors radiated from my feral fault line. Keep it cool, Vanilla. Safely hidden, I left my blouse open, kept my skirt on, and knelt behind him on an oversize cushion. He wouldn’t see me unless I let him, but he would hear my near-subliminal voice, and definitely feel me if I so chose.“Why don’t you help her take her panties off,” I prompted.“Mmm, good idea,” purred Cyndi, rippling her knuckles to create an invitational gap in her knickers. “I want you to get a better look at what I’ve been doing under these.” We were both treated to a creamy glimpse of the pouting Venusian lips exposed by the stretched gusset.He let go of himself long enough to tug her drawers down over her hips, waiting for her to raise and close her long legs enough for him to finish the task. “Oooh, thank you,” she sighed, spreading again and displaying the rest of her rose petaled goods. “I like that so much better, don’t you? You like what you see, Shy Guy?”Upon realizing he wasn’t going to snap out of his mute state, I whistled in admiration. “That is one sweet snatch. Maybe if you play your cards right, she just might let you give it a lick. Think you’d enjoy that? I know she would.”While he still held the dampened wisp of cotton in his right hand, I took him by both wrists.It was Cyndi who lowered the boom. “No hands from this point on, Shy Guy,” she warned. “If you so much as reach, she and I both disappear from this room. In that case, you get to give yourself all the hand you want.”His incredulous stare ricocheted in the mirror, while his unhanded manhood strained unflaggingly in the alpine direction of Cyndi’s tits.“Those are the rules,” she shrugged.“Are you having me on?” His eyes found me for the first time since Cyndi’s thousand watt presence dazzled him. They ricocheted daggers my way, and the omission of my name from his question didn’t go unnoticed.I ignored him and ducked out of sight. Did the rude son of a biscuit-eater really think he was the only one capable of dictating terms and conditions? “We’re not kidding,” asserted Cyndi, who had renewed autoerotic exploratory contact. Which naturally cast the deciding vote.He allowed me to draw his hands behind his back. “Don’t worry,” I assured him sweetly, knotting his wrists together with Cyndi’s knickers. “This will make it easier for you to comply with the rules.” Satisfied they were secure, I couldn’t resist baiting him. “How does it feel to be handcuffed with a hot girl’s panties, hmm? Oh look, Cyn; it’s making his prick even harder. Touch it and find out for sure.”Cyndi reached out and gave it a tap with an index finger, then daintily swirled a pinky over its inflated dome. “So it is!” she exclaimed with a carnal glance into his eyes, and licked her fingers.She leaned back and twirled frosted nails about her turgid, tawny nipples. “Too bad you can’t do this to my tits,” she cajoled. “I can feel the shivers all the way to my…you know…”I breathed on the back of his neck. “Didn’t I promise you they were perfect for you to wank over? Now if only you could.”He jerked against his technicolor bindings, but they held fast. While he corrected his distubed balance and considered his predicament, my right hand crept around and hovered millimeters from his hard shaft, close enough for him to feel its warmth but not its contact.”Since you can’t use your own, would you like to feel my hand on your cock instead?”Greedily he thrust his hips to meet it, but I pulled out of his reach.”Would you?” I repeated.”Yes.””Yes, what?””I want to feel your hand on my cock.”I traced the air in teasing trails above his straining member. “Say ‘please’?””Please,” he hissed, staring at Cyndi’s magnificent tits.”Say ‘pretty please with vanilla on it’!” I bit my lip to quell the rising mirth.His eyes met mine over the absurdity. They were as hard as his tool but he managed to expel, “Pretty please with vanilla on it,” visibly swallowing the epithet he was dying to add but didn’t dare.As a reward, I let a velvet palm graze his underside once, twice, then it softly began to rub him in slow, elliptical loops. My fingers fluttered like restless doves near his balls, my thumb flicked gently at his dribbling tip. He sucked in his breath. I moved in closer. “You really like what you see, don’t you?”
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